A MUST READ: How Governors Rig Elections, By Donald Duke-Guardian

A comprehensive expose on how elections are rigged in the country has been unveiled by one of the insiders in the political process and former Cross River State Governor, Mr. Donald Duke. Last Wednesday at the Transcorp Hilton Hotel, Duke gave a blow by blow account to a gathering of pro-democracy advocates, including the Save Nigeria Group (SNG), of the modus operandi of State Chief Executives and Resident Electoral Commissioners to thwart the mandate of the electorate, not just in states controlled by the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP), but all the others.
In his opinion, it is not just a question of replacing the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) Chairman, but getting a critical mass to come out to vote and ensuring that votes count.
The Guardian today delivers excerpts of his extempore speech:
“LET me start this way. Professor Maurice Iwu is truly an enigma; he enjoyed the limelight. He enjoyed all the attacks, thrown and meted at him, he remained undaunted. I think, he belongs to the school of thought that believes that bad publicity is better than no publicity. So, even though he was being attacked and scolded and all sorts of things were said about him, he didn’t shy away from even going to the United States and talking to Nigerians in the Diaspora about his work, he didn’t shy away from it.  I was told he organized a rally to ensure that he will come back to do the work he was appointed to.
Why do I call him an enigma? The truth is, the chairman of the Independent National Electoral Commission has little or no bearing on the success of elections, that’s the truth. To me, it’s actually immaterial because he is head of the administration he takes the brunt. The best he can do is perhaps, draw up a blueprint but the implementation of that blueprint is outside his control. So, if elections are rigged in say -Taraba State- we don’t do that stuff in Cross Rivers State (laughter),
Every one looks at Iwu and he proudly says we did this or that. Hogwash!
Let me now take you through the process of an election. We have a hundred and twenty thousand booths in Nigeria. At the hierarchy, you have the Chairman of INEC, then you have the zonal Commissioners, then you have the Resident Electoral Commissioners and they are the heads in every state the zone as the name implies; we have six zones in Nigeria, so you have six of them. Then you have the Resident Electoral Commissioners and there are 36 of them of course, and Abuja. Then for each local government, you have an electoral officer. Beyond that you have a hundred and twenty thousand polling booths, headed by presiding officers. The people think that at the end of the elections, the PDP would just decide who wins and who doesn’t and announces the results. I think the process is a bit more sophisticated than that.
This is what happens; the Resident Electoral Commissioner is usually from another state. The electoral officers, they move around. They are usually from that state, but for the conduct of elections itself, you would probably move from Cross River to Akwa Ibom or to Abia, but these musical chairs don’t mean nothing.
When the Resident Electoral Commissioner comes before the elections are conducted- of course when he comes to the state, usually, he has no accommodation; monies have not been released for the running or conduct of the elections and all that because we always start late. He pays a courtesy call on the governor. It’s usually a televised event you know, and of course he says all the right things. ‘Your Excellency, I am here to ensure that we have free and fair elections and I will require your support.’
Now, at that courtesy call, most governors, at least I did, will invite the Commissioner of Police because he is part of the action and he sits there.
After the courtesy call, the Resident Electoral Commissioner now moves in for a one-on-one with the governor the says, “Your Excellency, since I came, I’ve been staying in this hotel, there is no accommodation for me and even my vehicle is broken down and the last Commissioner didn’t leave the vehicle, so if you could help me settle down quickly;’ and the governor says, ‘Chief of Staff, where is the Chief of Staff here?’ And the Chief of Staff appears. Governor says: ‘Please ensure that the REC is accommodated–put him in the Presidential lodge, allot two cars to him, I give you seven days to get this done. Then the relationship has started; I am going to share some of these things with you so that we don’t leave here with any illusions. A lot of us, folks who have gone through an election or have been elected for one thing or another, see groups like Save Nigeria Group (SNG), the CLP as woolly-eye dreamers, you have to come down to the backsides, since I am now a hybrid between both. I want to bring you both down to backsides.  Let me take you down to what happens so that you can change it because if you don’t change it, we here won’t suffer but I think of our children will.
We the elite, I am one of them, we send our kids to the best schools around the World, when they come back they are misfits, they cannot fit in and so ultimately we are designing a system that would destroy us in the end.
Let me take our minds back to Somalia. Somalia is mono-religious, mono-ethnic; they only have clans (but) they have one tribe. What has happened there? It’s a failed state because the elite in Somalia were so disconnected from the people that once they had some money, they buy houses in England, Washington and all those places; they were not investing, putting their best foot forward and I think that was what Pastor Bakare was talking about.  If you want to be in a contest, you put your best foot forward; at the end of the day, there was such a disconnect that even till today, they cannot bridge it. Let me tell you, the last recognized President of Somalia is buried in Lagos- Siad Barre.
We are multi-religious, multi-ethnic and multi-problematic. The reason why most people worry about us is if we explode, who will contain us? Let me also say this, I know what I am saying now is an aside, I will go back to the elections. When we conducted the census in 2006 or so, the raw figures said we were over two hundred million; when they went and processed the figures it came down to 140million.
When you look at those figures and compare to those we had in 1991 at a growth rate of 2.1 or something like that, it is really just an extrapolation, because we were too embarrassed to admit our true numbers. If we get it wrong, we will fail like Somalia; in Somalia, half of them are in Kenya, Ethiopia, and a few are in Europe here and there; who will contain us in all of West Africa and Central Africa and for that it is imperative not just for ourselves but for the rest of the continent that we get it right.
Now, back to the elections, once that relationship has been established between the governor and the REC, if you are a governor who is ‘A Governor’, maybe two nights after you just pop by at the governors lodge and see the REC and say ah, ‘ah REC how are you doing? Are you OK?’ He says, ‘ah! Your Chief of Staff has been wonderful. He has been very nice to me; he supplied me the vehicles and everything is Ok’.
A few weeks to the elections, the REC sees the governor; you probably have on the average about three thousand five hundred, four thousand depending on the polling booths in every state. So, REC goes to the governor and says, ‘Your Excellency, could you please give us the names of about four, five thousand people so that we can hurriedly train them, we need them as Presiding Officers.’ You need experience. A good coach is one who has played and has lost matches in the past?
The REC now goes down and says, ‘we need to conduct a training programme for the presiding officers and em, headquarters hasn’t sent us any money yet, you know.’
And the governor is like: ‘How much would that cost?’
REC replies: ‘N25million for the first batch, we may have about three batches.’ Governor: ‘Ok, the Chief of Staff will see you.’
Now, the Chief of Staff, you call him: ‘Make sure, that we arrange N25 million this week and in two weeks time another N25 million and Seventy-Five million in all.’
Chief of Staff: ‘Your Excellency, how do we do it?’
Governor: ‘Put it under Security Vote.’
In other words, its cash, ok, now, cash in huge Ghana Must Go bags – some of my colleagues will shoot me- (turns to the audience) is any former governor here? (Crowd replies no!)
Good. Cash is lodged in huge Ghana Must Go Bags for the REC and of course, to be fair to them, they call their electoral officers and say the governor has been very benevolent; he has given us this and that. I say three batches because they have them in Senatorial districts. So, you have one in Calabar, you have One in Ikom and Ogoja, those are the headquarters of the Senatorial districts. Each one costs twenty-five million. Of course, the sums are not properly retired. I don’t know how much of this twenty-five million worked. But, there is a rapport this is going on.
The governor now turns round and says: ‘call me the party chairman.’  The party chairman appears and the governor says: ‘INEC requires 50 thousand people for conducting the elections. See to it that we meet their needs.’ The chairman goes and you hear in the evening on radio and television: There will be an urgent meeting of all chairmen and secretaries of XYZ party at the headquarters. They should report promptly at 10am (because) matters of urgent interest will be discussed. End of announcement. Now we have texts messages, so its easier, in no time everyone is here.
It’s a very short meeting, please go back and within 48 hours submit from each local government two hundred and fifty names of trusted party members. So in a week the deed is done. The names, sometimes even passport photographs if required are sent to INEC.
And the training programme is carried out. Let me pause a bit, this is at party level. They are usually civil servants. They may be teachers, whatever, but they are party members. The remuneration, for each of them for the elections from Abuja is 10,000 Naira for the day’s work. But the state in its benevolence gives 50 to 100,000 Naira to each of these folks right before this election.
This is even where it gets even more interesting. So, you have each of the three or four thousand polling booths; they are manned by party stalwarts. They are usually party stalwarts. You don’t send any peripheral member. The remuneration from Abuja has not arrived but that of the state was received 48 hours prior.
On the day of elections, each polling booth has no more than five hundred ballot papers, that is standard.
There is not a polling booth that is more than five hundred. So only two hundred people appear here, three hundred there, one hundred there, fifty there, four hundred there, at the end of election what happens. The Presiding Officer sits down and calls a few guys and says, ‘hey, there are a few hundred papers here, let’s thumbprint. This is the real election. Well, this is not a PDP thing. I am not here to castigate the PDP; it’s a Nigerian thing. This process may sound comical and jovial, it happens throughout the country, whether its Action Congress or APGA it’s the same thing. We are all the same. They start thumb-printing, some are overzealous. So at the end of the day you find some voting more than the number of people that were registered to vote.
Other wise they do it, you have 95 percent turnout.  You start wondering where were the voters, I didn’t see so many people. And the election results are announced; XYZ party wins and it takes a week for this paltry ten thousand Naira for each presiding officer to arrive.
Listen to this before you ask your question: Who is the most important person in an election? – The presiding officer. And if there are a hundred and twenty thousand of them (booths) there are a hundred and twenty thousand presiding officers, they are the most important people in the elections, not the Chairman.
So, as long as we keep applying that same method, you will get the same results. Its crazy to think that because you substitute Iwu for Jega all will change. In other words, Iwu is a crook, Jega is a saint.  Jega is great, he has an impeccable reputation. Iwu was great, now he seems not so great. Ok, they are both professors, they have reached the peak of whatever discipline that they profess. The point is that it is the system and the personnel and the chairman has little or no control over that.
Where are we now, we don’t even know when the elections will be. The Constitution amendment seems to be stalling somewhere. So it’s either in January or in April. Sometimes, we behave as if we invented democracy. We always want to draw new rules. We should know the day of elections. It should be fixed. We should know that on so and so date I think, America is the 4th of November or so and if it falls on a Sunday it doesn’t make a difference. The point I am making here is that date is fixed, you know; because in a democracy, election should be a norm, not an event. In our democracy, election is an event. Its like, we are going to spring on to you with fire works, hey, we are going to have an election, we are all running around- I know most politicians are broke right now, so we are all running around the field.
Secondly, if you have your ears to the ground there, are whispers that may be, we need to postpone this thing. The whispers are there. In a democracy, you postpone an election? You postpone things you didn’t plan for, not things that are there in the Constitution, that says you must do this, that and that, you can’t but –you know two ways of moving forward. This is where I like what SNG and CNP are doing.
We need a critical mass of Nigerians to get out and vote. It is important because the more ballot papers that are legitimately used on election day, the fewer available to be used to rig the vote, that’s the truth. Don’t keep to yourself and think that they will announce results. They are more sophisticated than that. And that’s why the aspirants who felt cheated and had the resources to employ forensic personnel, like those elections had the elections upturned in Edo and Ondo, because they could establish multiple voting by thumbprint.
So, if it’s an AC state the procedure is the same.  I remember a state, that state will remain nameless. I hear the story that the then President was so determined that he must change the leadership of this state and he called the IG and said, ‘look, that Governor is a security breach. Let's have elections and flush the governor out, and the governor knows he is under siege. A week before the elections, a new police Commissioner arrives.   And you know if you are a governor and a new Police Commissioner arrives before elections, you know something is wrong somewhere and he spends two, three days without going to see the governor, which is again a breach of protocol.  The day he decides to see the governor, the governor says, I won’t be at the office. However, if he gives him a particular address they may discuss. Then the chap goes there and smartly salutes and it’s in a highbrow neighborhood of the city. (Shouts of Ikoyi rent the air.) ‘No! It’s Yobe!’ (The hall explodes in loud laughter).
The Commissioner of Police walks up to the governor and smartly salutes and says: ‘Your Excellency, I just came to introduce myself. My name is Mr. So, so and so. And the governor goes: ‘Ah, you are welcome. I heard you were here two or three days ago and I was wondering whether I won’t see you. Anyway, you are welcome. Have you settled down?’ ‘Yes I’ve been given accommodation and all that. And the governor asks, ‘where was your last posting?’ He tells him, he says fine.
Governor: ‘That car over there, this is the key and this is your house.
The Commissioner of Police now says: ‘Your Excellency, this Obasanjo is a very bad man. He is a very, very bad man. If you see all the things he has planned for you eh Olorun maje.’
How do we move on? How do we get out of here? What I have done is I’ve tried graphically to paint a picture of a process. How do we change this process?
One, I think, since we cannot change attitudes as quickly, we must ensure mass participation. In an election where there is a very high turnout, the results are usually genuine. The most celebrated election in Nigeria, June 12, 1993 what happened? People came out. The more people who come out to vote the fewer–there may be mago, mago here and there but there wouldn’t be much in such a critical manner to upset the will of the people. Beyond that, if you don’t vote in an election, you have no reason to criticize the government and I tell folks everywhere that guys, I would say, I have lived my life. You guys have not and you are all criticizing Nigeria but did you vote in the last election? Most of them say no then I say, you’ve lost the moral right to criticize what the government does because you were not part of the process.
Is there a way out? I think there is. I think we need to employ technology. It's just a suggestion and I want to share with you. I have said this in one or two fora and I’ve heard people say it has not been done in America or the West why should we do it here? I say they don’t have the attitude we have here.  Necessity is the mother of invention. It is not necessary for us to do what I’m about to suggest.
For the purposes of this, 3455, this number is for a phone and that number is unique to you and valid for that election or the set of elections. And each party has a numerical equivalent. AC could be 1, the PDP could be 5, the Labour Party could be 3, whatever. And on the date of elections you decide that your number even if you don’t have a phone, you can go to a centre where they have a bank of phones and once you put in your number 3455 it recognizes you, it cannot be duplicated. Its only you that has that number and for that election on that date, once its used it cannot be used by anyone else.  Then you can do this one from your house or anywhere, and any time between the hours of 9-12. When it says which party, you say 3 or 4 whatever the number, they ask you, ‘are you sure you say Yes’. You press it then you’ve voted. With that, I think we can conduct election but people say ah, it’s to technological and I say, why do you always underestimate the people in the rural areas? If you send them money this way, won’t they be able to cash it? Why is it that when it is to conduct their civic responsibilities it becomes high tech?  I know this country, I ran a state for eight years, I know the nooks and crannies of my state. We are not the most enlightened of states in the country, but you see, I had a deal with MTN and Glo to ensure that every community in Cross River State has a base station; for that I gave them sites free of charge; so, virtually every nook and cranny of Cross River has a base station. Even the most rural of places; even in Bakassi when we still had control of it. And they all use it. They still use it to call their folks in the urban centres to say send us money.  Why is that when it comes to civic responsibility it is high tech? Because the politicians don’t want to use it, that’s the truth.
I am not saying this is a perfect system, it can be fine-tuned, that will ensure that within an hour or two every one has voted and the results are near perfect.
Of course, once you design a system, there are those whose work is to un-design the system. There are people like that and they work backwards. Once you have that we also think the same way. How do we work backwards, where can this be faulted? It can be faulted in many ways. The service companies if you are able to break-through the integrity of the system, you know, here and there; but I think we are going to think outside the norm.
The point I’m trying to make is we have to think outside the box.  I want to commend the federal government, each time the government talks about elections, it keeps on talking about credible elections with brilliant sound bite. But it must go beyond the sound bite and lets not kid ourselves, by thinking that by putting a Jega there that all is well. With Jega there, all will be well if he is able to design along with his team a system that is virtually fool proof. In other words, he himself must understand the system of elections, he needs to know how it works and how its been holding.
As I speak to you, we’ve not started voters’ registration. That exercise will take any where from three to four months. It will take at least, ninety days to run through its course, another six weeks to tidy up before it is published; lets not kid ourselves. You can have elections anytime, but you can’t have credible elections in January. So, for those thinking we can have elections in January, I think we have to rethink the process; we cannot have credible elections in January. We may have elections but it may not be credible. Where are we? We need to get out of these holes; we need to traverse the length and breath of this country. We need to recruit an army of people may be 5, 000 in each state, two hundred young men and women who will reach our (people), give each of them a task to ensure that he registers at least a hundred person. That alone, will bring twenty million people into the fold. This is what they did in the Obama election.
Fortunately, I was monitoring the Obama election, whether you attain voting age or not, you are able to send text and move around and get people to vote. It's one thing to register, some folk tell me, ‘how can I go to line up for hours to vote for this person’. This is again what pastor Bakare was talking about, if people are not excited about the candidates they will not come out. ‘Look at the four people running, they are all clowns. I’ m going to watch television; I’m not going to vote because either way a clown is going to win’.
So, we have to get involved in the process. We can’t all run for offices, we all can’t. ...”

 

SaharaReporters

NIGERIAN PHD STUDENT ADAOBI M. OBIH MURDERED IN USA…PLEASE SHARE…KILLER ON THE RUN

COLUMBUS – Columbus police obtained an arrest warrant for a man wanted for murder.
They’re looking for 36-year-old Ryan Allen Klug, who they say is now the prime suspect in the murder of 26-year-old Adaobi M. Obih, who was found dead Tuesday in an apartment. Police initially said Klug was a “person of interest” in the case.
Columbus police don’t think Klug is still in the area and said multiple law enforcement agencies were looking for him.


Adaobi M. Obih
Police were alerted to Obih’s death after she missed work Monday and Tuesday without notifying anyone. Concerned coworkers contacted her apartment complex to ask about her. Police also contacted the property manager to request a welfare check, according to the arrest affidavit.
A maintenance worked went to check on the woman and said, “It’s not good, there is blood everywhere” after going to Obih’s apartment.
A neighbor said he noticed that the door to Obih’s garage spot was open and had been open for at least 24 hours. Klug, who police described as Obih’s roommate, parked his vehicle there.
The maintenance worker told police there were no signs of forced entry at the apartment and that only two people would’ve had keys: Obih and Klug. The maintenance worker told police he found Obih with a “large amount of blood around her head” and said it appeared clear that she was dead.
Police talked to Obih’s boyfriend, who revealed that he’d texted and called her multiple times but never heard back. The last message he received from her was at 12:17 p.m. on Sunday, Nov. 17. When she failed to respond, he went to her apartment, saw her car in the parking lot and knocked on the door. Obih didn’t answer.
A neighbor who lives in the apartment below Obih’s said it sounded like someone was moving furniture during Sunday afternoon. “It went on for more than three minutes,” the neighbor said, adding that it happened shortly before tornado warnings went off for Sunday’s storms.
Police said Klug had texted a pastor asking him to call. When the pastor did so, Klug answered and said he couldn’t talk at the time.
Further investigation found that Obih had been stabbed multiple times and her throat cut. A blood trail went from the woman’s bedroom to Klug’s, and police said it appeared “the assailant attempted to clean up in the bathroom area belonging to Mr. Klug.” They also found a bloody towel in Klug’s sink. Police located a plastic bag containing a bloody sock and other clothes stained with blood, including blue jeans, boxers and a shirt. Police said the “amount of blood on these items was significant.”
Police found a trail of small blood drops leading from the apartment to the garage where Klug parked his vehicle. His 2008 silver Subaru Legacy was not parked in the garage.
Klug works for the Indiana Department of Transportation, and police contacted his supervisor, who told them Klug’s behavior had been “off” lately. He sent a text message Sunday saying, “sick tomorrow, then vacation next two weeks.” His supervisor said the message was out of character and also violated the department’s vacation time policy. Klug did not return texts or phone calls, his supervisor said. He didn’t show up at work Monday or Tuesday.
Klug’s stepmother and father said they hadn’t heard from him for several days.
His brother told police he’d spoken with Klug about two weeks ago. Klug wanted to get back with a girl he’d dated. The relationship ended about a year ago. His brother told Klug to call her; he said Klug discovered she was dating someone else and told him, “I’m losing control.”

NOTE: Police need help finding prime suspect 36 yr old Ryan Allen klug of 3461 Limestone Lane, Apt. 2134 Columbus Indiana, who might have fled to Ohio. He’s likely driving a 2008 gray Subaru with Indiana plate 357BPC.
*story developing .. Pls share any info u might hv on this guy + call police dep @ 812-376-2600

Tribex

Why I Fled Nigeria – Major Debo Basorun

Major Debo Basorun (rtd.) wants the public to know what transpired during the regime of former military president, General Ibrahim Babangida. There is sure so much to know about an era widely considered grotesque enough to be regarded as the accelerator of the country’s descent into an ethical free trade zone. His position as press secretary to Babangida, before a near-fatal parting of ways, gave him a ringside seat, unexpectedly providing him tonnes of goods for his forthcoming memoirs, Honour for Sale. In this interview with BAMIDELE JOHNSON, FUNSHO BALOGUN and FOLARIN ADEMOSU, Basorun, a recent entrant into the septuagenarian ranks, speaks about the book, Babangida, his hellish life after disagreement with his boss, his period in exile and the murder of Dele Giwa

What exactly is the motivation for writing of your book, Honour For Sale?
I think I have a duty to familiarise the country with the events that culminated in my leaving the presidency of General Ibrahim Babangida. I do not want things to be swept under the carpet. There are many opinions as to why it has taken me this long to decide to publish the book. One of the reasons is to let things mature before deciding to take such a dangerous step, if I can call it that. I call it a dangerous step because the dramatis personae in the Dele Giwa saga are still very powerful, very wealthy, with their connections still intact. I don’t have anything but God. And having crossed the threshold of 70 years, I have decided it is now the time. I am getting closer to my grave, naturally or if induced. I have decided it is time to let the public know what transpired.

How did you find your way into the Presidency?

I would say providence. I came from the backwaters. I joined the army as a private, rose through the ranks and God has been with me ever since. I was very hardworking. I would want to say, without being immodest, that I was one of the best in my class. Wherever I found myself, I tried to be one of the best.

Your book paints the army during the civil war, in which you fought, as that of an institution riven with ethno-religious politics. In the book, you allege that people from a certain section of the country were deliberately sent to die at the war front.

What I can call it is ethnic cleansing. We call it tribalism in Nigeria because we have not reached the advanced stage of some countries that use the right expression. It was nothing short of ethnic cleansing. You must be referring to the incident that happened at the Armed Forces Resettlement Centre, Oshodi. There was a commander, who was from one part of the country. He made sure that those of us who were being sent back to the front, irrespective of the fact that some of us were still recuperating from war injuries; people of my tribe and from the South, were being sent back to the danger zone.

Where were the people from the presumably right sections posted during the war?
At the outbreak of the war, there were actually two divisions in the Nigerian Army. Third Marine Commando came into being as a result of manpower shortage at the warfront. It was a brand new unit comprising mainly of young men from the South. The other two divisions were dominated by Northerners and were well equipped. They were the real personnel of the army before the outbreak of the war. So, these two divisions formed one division of the Second Division. One was commanded then by General Mohammed Shuwa, who was recently killed by the Boko Haram. The other one was commanded by General Murtala Muhammed, who was a lieutenant colonel, I think. The 3rd Marine Commando was a child of circumstance, a result of shortage at the war front. That was why it was set up.

You started getting into trouble early in your career. You were a subject of a series of fraud investigations. Why always you?

I would not say I was always getting into trouble. It was because I was very straight and honest and I would want to attribute that to my upbringing, which gave me values that have served me well till today.

If you are referring to the court martial, I was a 2nd Lieutenant then. At the time, I was made a pay officer at the Directorate of Army Public Relations. Then, it was on Broad Street, Lagos. There was this reorganisation, prompting our corps to be reduced to a department, a sort of relegation. The paymaster was recalled to his unit. The leaders in the department looked around and picked me as the person who would be the pay officer. What I did then was to leave Broad Street for Abalti Barracks, which was the garrison then, to collect money on behalf of the troops serving with us on Broad Street in Lagos. Unknown to me, the acquaintance roll figures were inflated without my knowledge. I would just pay and submit the returns to the garrison and obtain my receipt. That was what helped me during the trials.

The book describes the office of the Chief of Army Staff under General Wushishi as resembling the stock exchange. Who were those involved in trading on the floor of the office of the Chief of Army Staff?

You will also see in the book that many officers were setting up front companies to award themselves contracts. This is a well known fact. But these are things people dread to say. My frankness and courage have earned me harassment, punishment and being pushed around in the army. But I am somebody who grew up with those values and I don’t intend to drop them now.

Why did it take you so long to get allocated an office space in the office of the Chief of Army Staff (during General Wushishi’s time) as you have claimed?

Tribalism. If I was from the North, my case would not have been like that. It was tribalism, pure and simple. I remember that during General Wushishi’s time, about 99.9 per cent of the officers and men in his office were from the North. I was the only one from the South. The other person close to that was Lieutenant Taiwo Obasa, who is from Kogi State.

The beginning of your problem with General Ibrahim Babangida was the memo for the removal of Arabic inscriptions on the army crest. At the point, did you not think that you were doing something that had the potential for combustion?

No. Not if you knew Babangida then. Babangida was a saint of sorts to most of us in the army. After the Dimka coup, he and General Mamman Vatsa were the two shining stars. But Babangida, because of his charisma and public profile, had a little edge over General Vatsa. When eventually he became the Chief of Army Staff, most of us believed that he was the person that could effect changes in the army because he had always expressed belief that certain things in the army needed to be changed. When he became Chief of Army Staff, it was natural for me to say: ‘Sir, now that you are on the seat, these are the things militating against the proper perception of the army as a national institution.’ I informed him, through a memo, of the need to remove Arabic inscriptions from the army crest. Babangida did not act on the memo for weeks and months. It was later discovered that Halilu Akilu, Director of Military Intelligence, got to know about the memo and raised hell. He called me names and said I was an apostate. He argued that being a Muslim, myself I was not supposed to raise an objection to the Arabic inscription. But this is a secular country. My father was a Muslim, while my mother was a Christian. I attended a Catholic primary school. My secondary school was founded by the Anglican Church. But I realised that the inscription was making the public perceive the army as a Muslim institution, rather than a national one. How could we, 30, 40 years after independence, still be having Arabic inscription on the army crest? I thought it was wrong and did not think it was something that would cause problems for me.

It was a confidential memo. How did it get into Akilu’s hands?

Babangida will answer that. In the book, I wrote about spies; intelligence guys hovering all over the place in the army headquarters. So, maybe unknown to him, some of the spies planted by Akilu’s office or from somewhere else in the intelligence unit might have gotten hold of the memo and informed their bosses of it.

But prior to the encounter with Akilu over your proposal to have the Arabic inscription removed, what was your relationship?

I hardly knew him. Akilu was posted in from the Infantry arm. This is an aspect of army politics that I tried to touch in the book. He was an infantry officer. He was brought in by the powers that be to lord it over intelligence officers.

One of them was General Azazi. He was a core intelligence officer. Akilu was brought in from the infantry, I think around Bama. Before his arrival, the powers that be ensured that other intelligence officers of equal rank were posted out to different places. By the time Akilu landed, there was no competition. By the time the people sent on various courses were returning, they were redeployed. Even with their intelligence background, some of them were redeployed to the infantry.

Your book depicts a degree of closeness between you and the late Mrs. Maryam Babangida, with you claiming to have persuaded her to take on the public role she did as the wife of the Chief of Army Staff. What was your reason for nudging an unwilling woman into taking a public role for which she later earned criticisms?

What I wrote in the book is that traditionally, the wife of the Chief of Army Staff automatically is the President of the Nigerian Army Officers Wives Association, NAOWA. At the time Babangida became the Chief of Army Staff, I still took him for the same charming and very unassuming man I had always known. He gave you the latitude to take decisions. So, I walked up to him. At that point in time, Mrs. Babangida was a very shy person. She was not as flamboyant as she later turned out to be. And it is a pity that people say one should not speak ill of the dead. My own philosophy is the opposite of that. You speak well of a dead person if he or she did well and if not, the assessment will be the opposite. I have no inhibitions about stuff like that. General Wushishi’s wife was a very private person. She had very strong Islamic beliefs. Therefore, most of these things were considered by her as anathema to the Islamic faith.

You hardly saw her at functions. And the few ones that she attended were arranged according to her beliefs. It was not a really functional organisation that she headed. When it was Maryam Babangida’s time to take over, I advised General Babangida that his wife should play a positive role to assist him in promoting the image of the army and towards getting things right with the welfare of the army as a whole. She initially resisted, but I kept encouraging her and she later gave in.

Would you say you regret what you did, given the way she turned out, especially your allegation that finances were mishandled?

In the book, what I said was that during the time, the Adjutant-General was one Brigadier-General Nasarawa. Through my office, funds were made available to NAOWA. As the president of NAOWA and wife of my boss, I did not have the courage or guts to ask her to document financial transactions between us. With the benefit of the experience I had in the army during the court martial days that I referred to earlier, I had to think quickly about how to prevent such a thing happening. I had to report back to General Nasarawa that things were not going the way they should. I knew that if you handle money in the army and you do not document it properly, you might be in trouble. I would not say I regret it. All did was to see that we got the best out of the army. But unfortunately, that was not what it turned out to be.

General Babangida, by your assessment, was a fantastic man prior to the time he was Chief of Army Staff and up to the time he was Chief of Army Staff. To what would you attribute the change in his personality after becoming president?

The political dynamics of this country actually got into his head. That was not what people knew him to be. When you go into that political office, no matter how military you may be, if you are not yourself, you can easily be derailed. And that is what happened to him.

At the level of Chief of Army Staff, you are still under the somebody’s command. But as president, you are the ultimate commander and you believe nobody can stop you. People allow such things to get into their heads. And when they do, the results are usually not good. One would expect that somebody of General Babangida’s calibre would be the saviour that this country had been looking forward to. That was what most people thought, including my humble self. But it turned out, gradually, that he was not really what he seemed.

When Babangida became president, he set up Detainees Review Board of which you were a member. You said a list of certain people was given to the board, which was instructed that those on the list must not be rigorously interrogated before being released. Those on that list, you claim, were people you had been sent to take through customs and immigration checkpoints at the airport. What exactly did you think they were bringing in or what was the need for you to have been asked to go to the airport and walk them through?

When Babangida was the Chief of Army Staff, one of the duties I performed was clearing people. Being the PR person, I was detailed to assist in bringing in his guests from the airport. Normally, I would call the Director of Immigrations, the Customs and Air Force commanders to alert them to the fact I would be coming to receive Babangida’s guests on particular flights. On getting to the airport, we would drive straight to the tarmac, get the person(s) down and take him or her into the vehicle. Some soldiers would be there to process the immigration documents. In the process of doing this, right from the plane, whatever the luggage contained, we loaded into military vehicles and drove straight to Dodan Barracks. That was all I thought I was doing until when we took over from General Buhari. There was this SSS dungeon where they put people. Most of those in the dungeon were on the verge of being arraigned before a military tribunal for drug trafficking. By the time Babangida became president and set up this committee of which I was a member, we had instructions to review the cases of detainees. It was one of the Babangida regime’s way of buying public acceptance. Buhari was considered to have been draconian and we thought that by releasing detainees, we would be buying some goodwill. The board was given instructions not to grill those on Babangida’s list but to just clear them for release. That was what we did. It is what I call a lesson in political education.

The Babangida government came in with a populist face. But at some point, people found him out and criticisms began. You hint in the book how critics were dealt with. We want you to take us through the various methods–carrot, stick.

During the early days we were the darlings. And most of the journalists conversant with what was going on then knew I was the face of the regime. I can tell you that most of us in the military did not know it would turn out the way it eventually did. When we started enacting policies, decrees and what have you and people were complaining, it got to a stage when the president became very irritated. Critics were dealt with by damaging their businesses and through inducements.

I will give you a good example. The Nigerian Bar Association, NBA, was very strong to break. Normally, we would penetrate most of these associations, remove the leadership, and plant our own people in leadership positions. But it was not so with some of them, like the NBA. We tried everything we could, but we could not break the association. So we got the intelligence people to get what we call the agent provocateur among them–those who really did not like the leadership for one reason or another–to our side. Once we did, they started disrupting the activities of the organisations during meetings and so on.

When chaos was created, we would step in, claiming we could not allow things to go on like that. We would remove the leaders and sometimes clamped them in detention.

General Aliyu Gusau, former National Security Adviser, hasn’t come out in your book smelling very nice. What was your problem with Gusau?

My problem with Gusau was that I could not speak Hausa language. That was the only problem I had. Remember that anybody being posted to the office of the Chief of Army Staff (I don’t know if there is a slight change now), if you did not speak Hausa, you were a goner. In fact, it was in the army as a whole. Let somebody come and controvert me on that.

Secondly, if you were not from the North, there were certain positions that you wouldn’t be allowed to hold. It was providence that got me there, I did not have a godfather. As soon as I finished my course at the Nigerian Institute of Journalism in 1980, Shagari was about to go to Abuja then. And my Director of Public Relations was one Colonel Fashina. He looked around, among the young officers, and said: “Debo, you have to go with them to Abuja. Go and set up the Public Relations Department of the Chief of Army Staff.” Initially, I hesitated.

But remember, I have a pedigree, a resounding success in that regard. The 22 Armoured Brigade in Epe was a cesspool of problems between soldiers and the community. They were at each other’s throats for years. It is a well known history in this country. I was sent there and I created the Public Relations Department.

Your relationship with the current NSA, Sambo Dasuki, according to your book, also did not appear to be a very chummy one. What were the issues?

I would say we got on fairly well in the army. What I wrote about him was his powers. We did not have a direct confrontation. All I did was to write on what he was in the army. He was a crown prince and behaved like one in the army. I wrote that he never spent a day in the sun. What that means is that if you’re straight out of the academy and you are posted from one headquarters to another and then another, in the army, we would say you have never spent a day in the sun. That was exactly how it was with Sambo. He was a silverspoon kid that had tremendous powers in the army. That was exactly what I wrote about him. Reports had it that when he was in the Nigerian Defence Academy, he was the only cadet riding a car, which is forbidden to students. If you were a cadet, you had to mix with others, irrespective of your background. I was told the powers that be allowed him to ride a car as a cadet. That tells you something about him. And he brought that into the army. When we met in the army, it was the same thing, with senior officers coming to him for favours and all sorts of things.

In your account, you suggested that you were a conduit through which a hefty bribe got to General Babangida from some Lebanese businessmen. How did that happen?

This is why I said this is a tell-all book. I am not telling you that I was Jesus Christ. I will not tell you that I was not old enough not to know what a bribe was or is. But if you knew what was required to serve in the army, you would realise it is everything but normal. That was just one instance. Because I cannot be speaking without mentioning at least an occasion. And you can see that everything I wrote in the book, I always referred to at least an example. And there are people who are still living, who will buttress what I am saying. So, he sent me there and I met these guys who ended up giving me money to pass on to him. I went to him and said the guys asked that the box of money be given to him. He was cold and somewhat embarrassed. He told me to keep it. He might have had some dealings with those guys or that sort of thing. The box of money stayed in my house for about a month or so. My family was worried that armed robbers might pay us a visit or something. Eventually, I had to put pressure on him before he took it from me.

To what would you ascribe his reluctance to take it?

It could be that he was not comfortable with the guys sending the money through me or whatever. But remember, we are talking about the Commander-in-Chief. You are not going to start asking him what he thought about it. His word was law. When this interview is published, people will try to destroy me and say bad things about me, but what I challenge them to do is to prepare a platform for us and let us come and have it out in the public.

Remember that this man (Babangida) is loaded. He has money. He built Abuja. He built the Third Mainland Bridge. If that doesn’t tell you something, then you don’t know nothing.

Were there other occasions that you took bribes to him?

I know many Nigerians, currently in top positions, that served as conduit for bribes to my Oga. They are still in town. But it’s a case of me against them. If I allege that you did this at a particular time, you can come out and say you didn’t do it. It’s very easy to dismiss. That is why I have just allowed some of these things to go. In my conscience, and God knows, I am telling the truth.

It was on more than one occasion then…

More than one occasion. It was an easy thing during our time. Things happened.

In spite of the grief you feel at your treatment in the hands of Babangida and his lieutenants, you still managed to say a few good things about him. And one of such was your claim that in one of the cases you had, he refunded your legal expenses. What was this about?

It was when I took them to court. Remember that when I came back and I knew my life was in danger, I threw in my resignation and it took them a long time before they rejected it. Because there is no precedent, I took them to court on the basis of my fundamental human rights. What happened was that when the heat was on them, after I executed a legal action that they should allow me to get out of the army, as there was nothing stopping me from getting out of the army, they said no, that I had to go on a posting. And this place I was told to go on a posting had a history of people getting killed there. So I refused to go, not wanting to be an easy prey. And now that I am over 70, I am willing to die if they want to kill me. It cannot be worse than Dele Giwa’s death.

You have just mentioned Dele Giwa. And I think that you tried to suggest that the major factor in the collapse of your relationship with General Babangida and with the army as an institution was the Dele Giwa affair. What do you know about the Dele Giwa affair?

If tell you I knew how Dele Giwa’s murder was planned, I’d be lying. But if you ask journalists, who were in town at that time, they would tell you I was the only army officer with black band on my arm, going about with the procession for Giwa. When Giwa was assassinated and the whole country was abuzz with the allegation that it was the government that killed him, I asked Babangida and he denied. In those days, his no was no. I asked him what we should do and he replied that I should know what to do as a PR person. In a bid to prove to the world that we did not have a hand in it, I suggested that I would be part of the funeral procession, with his permission. He gave me the permission. At every procession and rally, I was the only officer in uniform. But there is no way you can hide the truth.

The Nigerian media, being what they are, started asking questions, especially when we had allegedly set up a panel to investigate the death of Dele Giwa.

Allegedly? Does it suggest that you don’t believe a panel was set up?

I used allegedly cautiously because, initially, I believed and that was what I was dishing out to the public. The members of the panel were Muhammadu Gambo, the Inspector-General; Akilu and Kunle Togun. But nothing was forthcoming.

We used to have staff meetings on Fridays and Mondays and any issue that affected the government was brought to the table for discussion. It was in one of those meetings that the issue of Giwa came up and I gave them feedback from the public. I told them what people were saying. I think Babangida did not think it through before asking me to go and check the latest on the investigation with Gambo. I drove to Gambo’s house that day and met him. It was there that he told me that he had sent a preliminary report to General Babangida. I think after I left the house, they called each other. By the time I got to the office the next morning, I met a furious Babangida, who started asking why I went to Gambo’s house to ask questions about Giwa. I reminded him that it was at the meeting that he asked me to go there. He calmed down. From there, intelligence people came in and they said I was a security threat, making all sorts of allegations without proof. It just got to a stage where the stories didn’t fit any more.

They’d tell you one thing this minute and come up with a different story the next. If they really set up a panel, it should produce a report after several months. But nothing was forthcoming. That was a black dot on the regime. I was insisting that we had to tell the people something; the findings of the panel.

It is one of the reasons I wrote the book anyway.

Your conclusion that Babangida knew about the murder appears based on the fact that Gambo said a preliminary report had been submitted and Babangida’s earlier suggestion that you should seek an update on the investigation from the Inspector-General.

Yes. If I appoint you as a head of a panel and gave you a certain assignment, then you must be able to tell the people what actually happened. In America, there is something they call cold case files. These are cases of 50 to 100 years. They would still revisit them and unearth things. So many discoveries have been made. I don’t want you to think I am out to paint them black. No. That is not my mission. My mission is for us all to come before the public. Let Nigerians know what happened because it could happen to you. We should be able to sanitise the polity. It is our duty.

How did your meeting with Gambo affect your relationship with him?
Gambo is an excellent person. I can tell you that. We related very well; no problems. I had easy access to him, just like other service chiefs. I went to them at will, even to General Abacha, when he was Chief of Army Staff. I went and came the way I wanted. If I wanted to see him, the door was open.

But it was not so with Akilu…

Akilu is somebody who nursed grudges. I am not saying it because this is Debo. You guys can investigate. There are people who served with him. He is the sort of person who holds grudges and will never forgive.

There is a claim in your book that Akilu attempted to stitch you up, sending you on an assignment in the US.

It was a mission that, right from the start, I made up my mind it was going to be impossible. Babangida knew the country’s image was in tatters and he was looking for a way to burnish the image. They set money aside and did everything. But the money did not come to me. My own duty was to meet some guys in America to try and fashion out a propaganda package. But at that juncture, I had been classified a security threat. I was not sure that I would not fall a victim like Dele Giwa. It was one of those things that made me decide against carrying out the assignment.

You were given the phone numbers of two men said to be Public Relations executives in America. What happened when you got there?

I just refused to meet them. Akilu told me to spy on fellow Nigerians and record their conversations, which I refused to do. That was the cause of the problem. This is well stated in the book.

On your return to Nigeria, how did you explain your failure to carry out the instructions given to you?

I was picked up at the airport, straight to Akilu’s Gulag in Apapa. I was taken to his dungeon, detained and harassed. I think I spent four days there.

What were you accused of?
Treason, this time. They did not accuse me of failure to carry out the mission to the United States, but of going to America to hatch a plan on how to overthrow the government. That was what they came up with. For days, different people interrogated me.

You returned to the office after interrogation. There were staff changes around the president and the late UK Bello had taken over as Aide-de-Camp. To what would you attribute this?

The normal practice is that if there was anything to be shared by presidential staff it would be in a memo form. Everybody would be handed a piece of paper to digest it, so that when we came for the meeting, we would understand what to say and everybody would be well equipped to come with their thoughts and findings. But this time around, it was not like that. It was a way of trying to give the dog a bad name. Akilu came up with a report that there was a threat to the presidency and that the life of the President was in danger. He said they had been investigating and had arrived at a conclusion to take certain measures. That was to set the ball in motion. At the next meeting, IBB was not there. His Principal Staff Officer, Colonel Anthony Ukpo, came up with a paper, read by U.K Bello, saying that my office should be moved out of the compound.

People asked why because I was the only person they did that to. The reason was that they wanted to get rid of me by all means.

They knew their chances were limited until they could get me out of circulation. Then, they could easily dispose of me. Why my case was bizarre was that I was a serving army officer. We had civilians, who slaughtered cows for the president, horse attendants and gardeners, still within the vicinity of the presidency, and they were not considered threats. These were people who went out to wherever they wanted, interacting with different kinds of people. They were poor people, if you can call them that, who did not have the resources that we had. For me to be singled out tells you what their motive was.

What happened after you were moved out?

I was told never to come to the seat of power again despite being a commissioned officer that had not been posted out. I heard from the rumour mill that there was a plan to post me out. I would not have refused a normal posting. But when I was posted to Makurdi, I knew my days were numbered.

How did General Babangida respond to your plight when you told him of it?
Each time I met him, he would say: ‘Debo, don’t worry. I will stop it.’ But it continued. There was a day, after I had been told to stop coming to Dodan Barracks, that I was told to go and sit down at home. I had never heard of that in any army.

I was told to go and sit at home, that when it was time for a posting, they would tell me. I refused to take that. I told them I was a commissioned officer. It was either I was posted in or posted out. I had to be somewhere. They said my salary had not been stopped and there was no need for me to fret. I disagreed. I told Lt.Col Elias Nyan, a lawyer and friend, who suggested that we should go to see Admiral Aikhomu, the Chief of General Staff. I am sorry to say that Aikhomu was a ‘yes sir’ officer. You cannot compare Aikhomu with Ukiwe. Ukiwe could stand his ground when he was Chief of General Staff.

But I had to see Aikhomu, which I did reluctantly. However, it turned out that he was my saving grace. I give that credit to him. He spoke with the president and the president gave me an appointment. On the day of my appointment I was even surprised that nobody stopped me at the entrance to Dodan Barracks. I got in and saw Babangida. But for the first two hours, he just ignored me. He was playing tennis with some guys. Suddenly, UK Bello just appeared. He was very aggressive. He was very short-tempered.

He is unlike Dasuki. Dasuki is quiet and would not make noise or make a scene. UK Bello came and told me to leave. I ignored him. He moved to attack me physically. I responded the same way and people had to separate us. The President was right there. But at that time I was with my back against the wall and was ready to dig it out with them. I knew the only salvation I had then was the media. If such a thing should leak to the media, they knew they were in trouble. Babangida hated people going to the media to say anything bad against him. He was somebody who wanted to protect his image and project that everything was fine. It was at that juncture that he came and listened to me. I gave him an ultimatum that I would leave the army. I am not saying this because I am no longer in the army or something. People who knew me in the army would tell you that once my mind was made up on something, I always did it. Babangida said what I was going through was just a phase and he would bring an end to it.

A few days later, he called me to say he had secured admission for me at the Administrative Staff College in Badagry. He did not want me to go in anger. Nobody thought I could resign after my graduation. I went to ASCON for the course and while I was there, visited Dodan Barracks occasionally. Babangida told me to see him at the end of the course. When the course ended and I was given the diploma, I went to Dodan Barracks. At the gate, I was told I couldn’t enter. I asked if they didn’t know me. They said they did, but they argued that anybody whose name was not on the protocol list could not enter. They refused to budge despite my insistence that I was a staff there that did not need to be on the protocol list.

I sat there. If you know how the State House was configured, you will know there is a path or channel through which you can always go out. When Babangida was seeing his guests off, he’d take that route. I sat in the ante room, hoping that when he was seeing his guests off, he would see me. But when the guests were leaving, IBB did not see them off. I told myself I would wait. Suddenly, Akilu appeared, yelling and swearing. He asked me to leave. I refused. I was so incensed that we nearly exchanged blows. He realised I was ready to fight. He retreated, but told the soldiers not to allow me in. I kept on waiting, but when Babangida did not surface, I left.

Afterwards you now decided to hire lawyers to fight your right to retire from the army and you ended up with the late Alao Aka-Bashorun.

I went to Aka-Bashorun and told him my problem and he asked whether I wanted to fight the system. I told him all I wanted was to be a free person, The traps that had been set for me would eventually kill me and nobody would hear about it. That was why I hired Aka-Basorun. And he did a very good job. Remember that Femi Falana was one of the members of his staff then. That was the beginning of the relationship with Femi up till today. We had a meeting and I gave them all the army books and they did a research, concluding that nobody could stop me from resigning. So I resigned. It shocked them.

An account in your book states that you once went to court with a weapon concealed under your agbada to prevent your arrest. Did you think you could have succeeded?
I would have succeeded. In the army we call it an element of surprise.

What happened was that the army kept ignoring court orders.

I became frustrated at not being able to move freely and wondered what it was all about. I am a soldier, too. I procured a weapon and envisaged a bloodbath if they tried to arrest me in court. I knew I would die eventually. But I would have killed many because they would have assumed they were coming for an unarmed. Anyway, Aka-Bashorun saved the day. I showed him the gun and he said: ‘What.’ He ran to the judge and whispered in his ear. It was the only day that Justice Thomas put his feet down and said the court should be cleared of everybody. He said he did not want to see any soldier around. The intelligence officer that led them there insisted that they had to pick me up, despite orders from the court. It was the judge that saved the day, not wanting to see dead bodies around him.

Was the judge aware that you had a weapon on you?

He was aware. I just sat there waiting for the time to strike. That would tell you the extent of my frustrations. I could not stay with my family after initiating the suit. I would sleep here today and sleep in another place the next day. There was a siege on the whole Ikoyi area. The moment they realised I had fled the country, they just threw my family out, beating them in the process.

The book has a portion devoted to one Mustapha, General Babangida’s cousin, who became a rich guy overnight. What was your relationship with him?

Mustapha Babangida and I were friends when he was brought in as soon as Babangida became the Chief of Army Staff. He was living in the boys’ quarters and related well with us. Gradually, he started getting introduced to people and registered some companies. He became a front, began running errands for Babangida. It happened that he was given a contract by the recently deceased Admiral Mike Akhigbe, who was governor of Lagos State. The contract was for the construction of classroom blocks at the school at Ojo Cantonment. He did a shoddy job. Some foreign journalists came into the country to do a report on education in Nigeria, choosing Lagos. I don’t know how they got to that place, but they got there and discovered that the job was shoddy. They wanted to investigate the contract terms and one thing led to the other. Mustapha then wanted to show them he had power and sent soldiers to beat them up. But those guys insisted. When they realised they had a big fish on their hands, they persisted and wanted to know other things. It was Babangida who settled it because it became a problem. He called the foreign journalists and I don’t know what transpired. I was checking foreign papers for their report, but nothing came out. That was the end of the story.

Another account in your book is about the stormy relationship between the former President and his late wife.

I would want to believe General Sunny Ifere is still alive. Some of the disclosures I have made in the book are bound to be challenged by some people who have benefited. I hope General Ifere is still alive. I have tried to track him down but nobody has told me where he is. He is the person who should tell you this. He went out with General Babangida on a particular evening and by the time they came in the wee hours of the morning, I think Mrs. Babangida suspected he must have gone out to do something improper. I don’t know what sparked the suspicion, but she tore off the badges on Babangida’s uniform.

I intervened, but the woman refused. I had to go and call General Gado Nasco, who came and persuaded the woman to leave the husband. Nasco is still alive. When General Ifere came in the following morning, he did not know what had transpired. Mrs. Babangida slammed the door in his face. That incident was one of the problems that led to his retirement from the army.

Didn’t you have issues with her?

Personally, no. She was very generous to me and my wife, giving her lace materials and those things that women give to each other. But I refused to allow my wife to be subjected to the indignities that she was subjecting other women to. The way she treated other women left much to be desired.

Tell us about your years in exile. When did you leave Nigeria?

I left Nigeria on 19 April 1989.

I got to America on 22 April 1989. The person I was supposed to stay with disappointed me. He never knew I could escape from Nigeria. All along, he promised he would receive me there. He is not a Yoruba guy, and that was what prompted me to want to stay with him. But as soon as he realised I was on American soil he reneged. I phoned him from JFK and I told him I was in America. At first, he did not believe me. When I asked him to call back the public phone I was using and I picked it, he started coming up with excuses. From there, a good Samaritan, a Nigerian, came to me and asked me what the problem was. He suggested that I should stay with his family and I did. I never got back in touch with that friend of mine. I just cut him off. This was somebody I assisted back in Nigeria. He was a government contractor and I never took anything from him.

How did you stay afloat in America?

Working at all kinds of things. Initially there were no jobs, so I went to relatives to help me out. Not too long after, I bought a business, a convenience store, and started trading there.

That was how it started. Later I got into logistics and then I went back into oil and oil. That was what I did last before coming into the country.

What do you do these days?

I am into business. Little contracting here and there. With people helping me to eke out a living. Good Nigerians.

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